In any case, one of the questions on the survey was "how often do you pray?" and I realized that was a hard question for me to answer. Not because I don't pray, but because I do. I pray so much that I couldn't begin to quantify how often I pray in the same way I could tell them how many times a week I watch TV, or read the newspaper, or visit a public library. The truth is, I pray all the time. Don't be impressed. Rarely do I set time aside to pray and give God my undivided attention, the way I should. But still, I pray. I pray every morning for God to give me strength, and patience, and to help me through the day. And then, I repeat this prayer. For each child. Individually. Several times.
As I put N on the bus, I ask God to keep her safe, and I sometimes say an extra prayer that everyone is nice to her today. And then, as I attempt to dress B and O as they are flailing, and crying, and laughing, and throwing clothes everywhere, I ask God to help me to resist the urge to just go back to bed and try again tomorrow. As I clean up spilled milk for the third time in half an hour, I ask God to please help me to keep my mouth shut instead of saying what I am thinking. As I break up a fight, I ask Him to please help them grow out of this stage soon. But not too soon. When I clean up spilled milk for the fourth time in forty-five minutes, I ask God to please help my children forget that word I just said, or at least not repeat it to their teachers.
When someone is sick, I ask God to please let this just be a cold, and not something awful. And after I find the two laundry baskets of clothes that I finally found time to fold strewn all over the house, I ask God to help my children grow into well adjusted adults, in spite of the fact that they just witnessed their mother briefly turn into a crazy, ranting, lunatic before their very eyes. And, let's not forget my nighttime prayer: Please God, watch over them. And please, please let them sleep.
I pray in Church, of course. I pray for those around us, for people that we know, for people that we don't know. I pray for us. Boy do I pray for us. And I often say a special prayer: that B will not offer beer to the person next to us today, that no one will grab their private parts and loudly announce, "But mommy! You said I could touch my OWN!", and that no one will get down on the floor in the middle of the homily "to scratch their itchy bum". Unfortunately, these prayers don't always work. I think someone around us must be praying for some laughter in their life.
I try to remember to say thank you, though not nearly as much as I should. Thank you God for another day. Thank you for children who are able to talk back to me, even though I wish they wouldn't, and for children who can run away from me, even though they are often too quick. Thank you that they have enough food to eat, though I wish it didn't end up on the floor...and the walls...and the bottom of my shoes. Thank you for children who remind me every day of the wonders of childhood, even when those wonders include: I wonder how that cheese got on the ceiling, I wonder who colored my white pants blue, and wow, I wonder what that is on the couch. Now that I think about it, I should probably thank God for showing me that you can apparently come back from the brink of insanity, often more than once in the same day. And, of course, I thank God for wine.
How often do I pray? I'm not sure how to answer that. More often than I watch TV, more often than I read a newspaper, and more often than I visit a public library. Not nearly as much as I should. And more than you will ever know.
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